Love and Forgiveness
by NoCleverSig
Summary: Helen rediscovers her love for Druitt after she seeks advice from an unlikely source.  3rd in the "No Destination in Mind" series   Warning: Romance ahoy!


**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything of Sanctuary or the characters. I just play with them. My words, however, are my own.  
**Author's Note: **This is the 3rd installment in the **"No Destination in Mind Series."** I encourage you to read the other two, but if you don't have time, all you need to know is this: Helen rid John of his energy creature, and he's hanging around the Sanctuary trying to figure their relationship out. Easy? huh? Now, for those who stuck with me for all the angst...TA-DA! PAY OFF! Romance blossoms between our two tragic lovers. This story is Teen. Next will have to be MA. Just can't help myself. Peace, ya'll. And **PLEASE REVIEW.** It's the only thing that makes my life worth living (Yes, that is hyperbole, but I really do like reviews, good or bad, just be honest.) Thanks for reading!-NCS

**Love and Forgiveness  
(Copyright 2010, NoCleverSig)**

Helen walked down the loading dock to check on Henry's progress with the shipment of pigmy troglodytes the Kenyan Sanctuary had sent over from Africa. It had been a quiet week at the Sanctuary. Unusually so, she thought. John and she hadn't spoken since their argument. In fact, she hadn't spoken to anyone really for several days, unless you counted her quarrel with Will who accused her of "hiding from her issues" and whom she accused of "not minding his own bloody business."

No, things were not going smoothly at home.

Still, she admitted, Will had a point. She was hiding. From John, her staff, everyone. Time to quit acting like a child and get on with her work. She could hear Henry and Kate's chatter in the distance, but as soon as she turned the corner their conversation ceased.

Fabulous, she thought. A new low. Now she'd become the center of her team's gossip. She shook her head, put her chin, up, and decided to pretend nothing was amiss.

"Henry, Kate, how goes the relocation process with our new guests?" she asked, trying to sound as upbeat and normal as possible.

"Oh, hey doc, it's going great," Henry said, a little nervous. "Didn't expect to see you down here, though."

"Just making the rounds."

Kate didn't say a word. She just kept working on the crates, putting the tiny humanoids in their new habitats and making sure they were secure.

"Henry," Helen said, observing the younger woman's pointed silence. "If you don't mind, I'd like to have a word with Kate. Alone, please."

Kate looked up at Magnus, eyebrows raised.

"Hey, sure, I got plenty of other things to do," Henry said. "See ya' later, Freelander."

"Later," Kate nodded.

Helen had rarely seen Henry flee faster, except of course when there was blood or bandaging involved.

"So, Kate," Helen walked over to her, arms folded, grey skirt and blazer on, watching the young woman as she continued her work with the pygmies. "How are things?" she asked.

"Good," Kate nodded, avoiding Magnus' gaze.

She wasn't going to make this easy, Helen thought. Bloody hell, might as well just dive in. "And how are things working out with you and John?"

Kate stopped and looked at her.

"Better than they're working out for you, I'm guessing." And she returned to relocating the pygmies, trying to do her best to keep them out of the light. The little guys really hated the light.

"Excuse me?" Helen said, a bit shocked by Kate's answer.

Kate started to say something, then looked at Magnus and shook her head. "Never mind. It's not my place."

Helen's first reaction, the one she had with Will this morning, was to tell Kate to mind her own business. Her second reaction was to stop, let go of her ego, and perhaps listen for a change.

Helen found an empty crate, sat down, crossed her long legs, and took a deep breath. "You obviously have something to say. I'm listening."

"Boss…," Kate said.

"Kate, perhaps you haven't noticed, but we're the only women here in the Sanctuary. At least human ones," she added. "I could use another woman's viewpoint. God knows I need someone to be honest with me," she muttered under her breath.

Kate scrunched up her nose, weighing her options. Magnus was the most poised, together, kick ass lady she knew. And right now? Right now she looked lost. "You promise you won't fire me?"

Helen laughed. It was the last thing she'd expected Kate to say. "I guess that depends on what you tell me."

Kate's face fell.

"I'm teasing you. Of course I won't fire you. I invited the question," Helen replied.

Kate looked at her, put her hands on her hips, then finally pulled an empty crate over and sat down next to Magnus, her legs splayed apart, torn up jeans, tight shirt, hands clasped together, leaning forward.

"Okay, you want to know what I think? I think baldy is crazy in love with you, and not in a bad crazy way. More like, head over heels, never stopped being in love with you, crazy way. You can see it every time he looks at you, every time he says your name…'_Helen_,'" Kate said mimicking Druitt's deep, British accent. It made Magnus chuckle. "And frankly," she paused, "I think you're jerking him around."

"Jerking him around?" Helen said. She hadn't expected that.

"You need to make up your mind, doc. Do you love him or not? Do you want to be with him or not? Cause right now, you're doing everything you can to sabotage it."

"How so?" Magnus asked, her defenses rising.

"Dinner? Dr. Dave?"

"Kate, that was just dinner with an old friend…."

Kate put up her hand to stop her. "Uh-huh. I'm not buying it. Look, I know you and Dr. Dave hook up, and I'm totally cool with that. I get it. But the timing? The timing sucked, and you know it," she paused. "It's like when you have an ex boyfriend around. You sort of want to prove that you don't really need him, you can get whoever you want. And I think deep inside you were sort of doing that to John, because deep down, I think you're kind of scared of getting with him."

Magnus looked at her. "Scared, hmm?"

Kate nodded.

Magnus took a long time to reply. Had she pissed her off? Was she going to lose her job? She really didn't want to have to go freelance again. That sucked. Besides, she'd finally cleaned her room.

"I'm scared," Helen said softly.

"Well get unscared!" Kate practically yelled at her. "Boss, you are like the last person in the world I would ever think would be scared of anything. So pull yourself together, figure out what the fuck you want, and let him know. Because leaving him hanging is just plain cruel. And while you're at it," she said before Magnus could even form a response, "Forgive the guy."

"Forgive him?" Magnus asked.

"Yeah. Not so easy, I know."

Helen nodded. "Anything else?"

Kate cocked her head, thinking about it. "Nah, that's pretty much it. He'll either be on board or not, but right now, you two are driving us nuts."

"Really?" Helen asked.

"Really," Kate nodded.

The two women fell silent.

"So, am I fired?" Kate asked quietly.

Helen smiled at her. "Not today."

* * *

Helen made the rounds of the Sanctuary, checking on residents, conversing with those she hadn't spoken with in awhile, and thought hard about what Kate had told her that morning. It wasn't eloquent, but it was accurate. She did need to make up her mind. Keep John or let him go. This nether world they had created was doing nothing but hurting them both.

Magnus went to talk to Henry. He'd come to her last week requesting some new security systems upgrades and she had put him off while she sulked and dealt with her own problems. The fact that she had sunk so low embarrassed her just to think of it.

She walked into the computer lab and saw him sitting there with John.

"And what does this do, Mr. Foss?" John asked, his voice hungry with curiosity.

"Oh that! That is so cool. You can see the whole security grid right here," Henry explained, showing him something on the touch pad screen.

"With just a touch?" John asked.

"Yeah, Just a touch. Here, try it."

"Are you sure?" John replied.

"Sure, it's not gonna hurt anything. And if it does, we won't tell the doc," Henry smiled.

"Please don't," John said, shaking his head. "The last thing your employer needs is another reason to be angry with me."

John touched the screen. His face lit up.

He smiled, broadly. "Mr. Foss, this is amazing!"

"I know! Cool, isn't it?"

"Yes, very…cool…indeed," John said still playing with the touch pad controls.

Henry locked his hands behind his head and smiled, twirling in his chair.

Helen leaned her shoulder against the wall, watching the two of them together, and grinned. The ultimate Victorian gentleman meets the epitome of 21st Century TechnoGeek. It was so like John. So full of curiosity, his intellect always aroused by the new, the different, the latest invention or theory. It was one of the main reasons she was attracted to him, that and the fact that he was tall, handsome, kind, and a consummate lover. The list, she found, went on and on.

Strange, she thought, how sometimes the most mundane of life's events could be the most profound.

She'd wondered, since she'd lost John so long ago, if she would ever be able to love him again should things change, should she cure him, should they somehow find their way back to one another. And all it took was this single moment to crystalize it without reservation. Some things, as a good friend once told her, were so blessedly simple they could make one cry.

"Henry," she called out.

Henry and John both spun around to face her, Druitt dropping his eyes. "If you don't mind, I'd like to have a word with John. Alone, please."

Henry looked at her, then John, and then back to Magnus. "Okay, I got plenty of other things I can do." He grabbed his notepad and started to scoot past her. "Later, John,"

"Thank you, Mr. Foss. It has been most educational," he said, nodding to him.

Henry smiled at him and walked passed Magnus. "It's not me, is it doc?" he whispered, wondering why he'd gotten booted out of two conversations today.

"No, it's not you, Henry," she whispered back, smiling.

"Okay, just checking. Catch you later."

Henry called back to Druitt, "Hey, come back later, John, and we'll get a lesson in cloud computing, 'kay?"

Druitt spun in his chair, "Cloud computing? How very intriguing. I shall do that Mr. Foss."

"'kay, see ya," Henry said.

"Good day," Druitt replied.

Helen walked up to John, taking a seat on the stool in front of him.

"I see Henry was catching you up on the latest of our technologies," Helen said.

"Indeed he was," Druitt responded, his tone pleasant. "He is quite a clever lad, your Mr. Foss."

"Yes he is," Helen replied.

They were silent for a bit.

"John," she started. "I want to apologize for the other night. I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention to hurt you or to force your hand by telling me things about your life that you weren't prepared to discuss."

Druitt shook his head. "No, Helen, it is I who should apologize to you. I was jealous, admittedly so, and ill mannered. If your friendship is all I can hope to regain, then your friendship I should be glad to have."

Now was the time, Helen thought. No more debating. No more hesitation. No more indecision.

She leaned over, took John's face in her hands, and kissed him, something she hadn't done in more than 100 years. And the taste of him, the sweet mix of memory and fresh passion, sent shivers through her soul and made her certain, if she wasn't already, of her decision.

He pulled back and looked at her, searching her eyes. "Helen?"

"A wise woman once told me, 'Figure out what the fuck you want and let him know.' So I'm letting you know. I want you John. And far more than as a friend."

"You're sure?" he asked.

"Absolutely," she said, grabbing his hands in hers. "Come with me tonight. Have dinner, perhaps even see a show, the cinema?"

He pulled back, holding her hands just as tightly in return, smiling at her. "Are you asking me on a date Miss Magnus?"

She grinned, looking like a young girl once more, John thought. "Indeed I am, Mr. Druitt, if you will forgive my forwardness."

"I don't mind you being forward at all, Miss Magnus," he said, leaning in to kiss her again, the sensation so raw and so sweet, he'd forgotten just how lovely it could be.

He smiled to himself. He would have to send Miss Freelander flowers. A very large bouquet of flowers indeed.

* * *

The last time Helen Magnus had dinner with John Druitt she'd changed outfits four times, afraid to appear too attractive, too desirable, to send him too many misleading signals.

Tonight, she had none of those qualms.

As a result, she picked her sexiest dress. The outfit she wore when she wanted a man's complete attention, wanted him only to look at her, think of her, be with her.

It was royal blue, bringing out the sapphire in her eyes and contrasting with her dark, cascading hair. The slit on the side stopped just short of her upper thigh. The neckline plunged low, very low, tied together with a silver clasp. The material hugged each and every curve of her body, highlighting every asset she had. A silver necklace, bracelet, and earrings, touched with topaz, completed the ensemble. She smiled at herself in the mirror, generally pleased with the results. This was neither the Victorian woman John had courted more than 100 years ago nor the Dr. Magnus he was used to seeing daily. This was something entirely new. And she practically growled in anticipation of his reaction.

When Helen Magnus decided what she wanted, it was best to simply get out of her way.

The knock on the door came precisely at 7. She double checked her lipstick and hair, closed her purse, moved through her bedroom chamber into her private sitting area, and opened the door to the hallway.

John Druitt stood there, fashionable black pants and blazer, crisp white shirt, and mouth open, absolutely speechless.

She raised her eyebrow at him in challenge.

He'd seen Helen Magnus in many different clothes throughout the decades, including no clothes at all, but this? This, he thought, should be illegal. It made him want to pick her up, throw her over his shoulder, and ravage her on the bed, the floor, the couch, the wall, any space would do. He suspected it was the reaction she was going for. Brava, he thought, my dear, you have more than succeeded.

"If your intention was to take my breath away, Helen, rest assured I may pass out for lack of oxygen. I can scarcely breathe at all," he said, his eyes dark, smoky, and full of desire.

It was the reaction she'd wanted, but she hadn't expected her reaction in turn. She could feel the heat, the desire emanating from him. Suddenly she wanted him to pick her up, throw her over his shoulder, ravage her on the bed, the floor, the couch, the wall, any space would do. In hindsight, perhaps she'd over done it just a bit.

Or not.

Either way, it was probably not the best way to start a first date after 100 years. Sex first, dinner later. But definitely the direction they were heading if one of them didn't snap out of it and quickly.

She was the first to find her voice.

"I think," she said shakily, "We should go to dinner." Otherwise we won't leave this room, she thought to herself.

"Yes," he said, his breathing labored. "Dinner is good."

The woman had reduced him to mere syllables. My God, John thought.

"Shall we?" he finally managed, offering her his arm. "Let's," she said, and they made their way, fully clothed, out of the Sanctuary.

* * *

Dinner was at a little Italian restaurant not far from her home. It was a family owned business. She'd known the owners for years and, as usual, they made sure she had her favorite table. It was a small, corner spot, lit only by candles. The entire restaurant was nothing but candles with soft music and soft voices. She'd always loved it. Right now, she found herself loving it even more.

They ate, drank wine, and shared a dessert. And throughout it all, the conversation, the pasta, the wine, they couldn't keep their eyes, or their hands, off of one another. To an outside observer, they were discreet. Simply two people, obviously intimate, enjoying dinner and one another's company. But Helen and John knew better. Every look, every accidental touch was a communication between them. A sub textual conversation so intense, Helen thought her heart might explode.

"Helen," John said, after they had sat awhile in silence, finishing their wine, hands across the table, fingertips barely touching. "Would you mind very much if we skipped the cinema tonight? I'd much prefer a walk. The moon is full, and it's been so long since I've simply walked with you."

She smiled, and brushed her fingers over his hand. "A walk would be pleasant, John."

They paid their bill, and left. The sky was clear and bright. It was autumn's eve, the harvest moon brilliant in the night sky. They could smell the sea on the breeze drifting in from the bay; see the lights of Old City and New City surrounding them.

"There's a park just across the way, if you'd like to take a stroll through it," Helen suggested.

John nodded.

He offered her his arm once again, and she took it. She'd put her wrap on, a slight chill in the air, but found herself still shivering as they strolled through the trees.

"Are you cold, Helen? Would you like my coat?" John asked.

She shook her head. It wasn't the cold that made her shiver. She pulled her arm out of his and reached for his hand, holding it tight. Suddenly she stopped. He still had her hand in his and had walked ahead, looking back at her, tilting his head curiously at her.

He walked back and stood in front of her, facing her, a good 5 inches taller than her, even in her heels. He could tell she was thinking, wanting to say something.

"What is it, love?" he asked.

Helen closed her eyes. He hadn't called her 'love' since their engagement. She pulled him toward her, then took both of his hands in hers, staring at them, caressing them.

"I know you've done things, John, that you will never forgive yourself for. You look at these hands, and all you see is violence. But when I look," her voice started to quiver. "All I see is you, John, and a love...a love I can't forget," she said, tears in her eyes.

She lifted his hands to her lips and kissed them. The top, the palm, each finger on each hand.

"These aren't the hands of a killer, John. They're the hands of my lover. And if you need me to forgive you for what was never your crime, then I forgive you. I forgive it all."

John stared at her, speechless, his own tears threatening to fall.

He'd never loved anyone before her. He'd never loved anyone since. And tonight, he knew with certainty, he could never love anyone more.

END


End file.
